“A picnic it is.” Will lowered himself to the blanket.
Julia launched at the kitchen. In the space of a moment, her demeanor had transformed from lost kitten to whirlwind. She quickly reappeared with an armful of frosty bottles and a precariously balanced tray piled with mammoth sandwiches, fresh fruit, and whatever goodies she’d laid her hands on.
“Let me help you.” Will sprang up and took the drinks and tray before they tumbled to the floor and set them on a low table.
Julia charged back into the kitchen, emerging again with paper plates, napkins, and brownies heaped on sprigged porcelain. “An eclectic blend of old and new,” she said, cradling the delicate platter securely.
Like her. Julia was refreshingly old-fashioned and yet, engagingly modern.
A loud rap on the door disrupted their festivity. “Expecting anyone?” he asked.
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know a soul here yet.”
Annoyance ran through him. “Maybe it’s a visitor unable read the sign on the locked gate saying we’re closed for the day.” He turned the black knob and opened the door.
A Viking waited outside. At least, he looked very much like one, except for the white T-shirt, worn jeans, and leather work boots. Will’s thoughts ran to the pistol under his mattress. Not that he was in the habit of shooting strangers considering the throng of daily visitors, but he was glad of his own bulk as he surveyed the strapping figure with reddish hair pulled back in a ponytail. Fur of the same hue covered the fellow’s brawny sun-tanned arms and he’d flung a knapsack over one massive shoulder. No wonder Vikings once held sway over the seas, plundering ill-fated shores and carrying off the women.
Will suddenly wished Julia were safely tucked away in the back room. With the instinct of a knight protecting his lady, he stepped between her and the Viking. “Can I help you?” he said, meaning ‘Go away.’
The unwanted newcomer parted his large white teeth in a smile and fixed Will with blue eyes reminiscent of clear winter skies. “Sorry to interrupt, mate. I tried the house. No answer. Heard voices in here,” he said amicably in an Aussie accent.
Even more unusual. Will hadn’t imagined Vikings in Australia. And he wasn’t inviting this one indoors. “I’m William Wentworth, manager of Foxleigh and grandson of the owner. How may I assist you?” he asked in his formal managerial tone.
“Grand place you’ve got here. I’m a Shakespearian actor/odd jobber looking for work. I can turn my hand to most anything, carpentry, brick laying, gardening. Are you wanting more summer help?”
“I might. Do you have references, Mr.—”
“McChesney. Lyle McChesney. Most recently, I’ve been working for Mr. Wilkins. He speaks highly of you.”
“Ah, yes. Why are you no longer in his employ?”
Lyle grinned. “I’m so damn good I worked myself out of a job.”
“Well, we’re not producing Shakespeare at present, though we have in the past. I’ve done some community theater myself. Play a mean Hamlet.”
“Do you, now? Hamlet’s a favorite of mine.”
Will warmed to the fellow. “If Wilkins vouches for you, I’ll take you on at the rate he paid. Where are you staying?”
“A little motel up the road called the Blue Star. I’ve my Harley for transport. I’m working my way across America before heading back to Sydney.”
Julia nudged Will’s elbow. Curiosity must have drawn her to the open door. He saw Lyle spot her. His vivid eyes grew far more intent than when he first surveyed Will.
“Who is this enchanting creature, forswear I’ve never seen her like,” Lyle uttered in a Shakespearian voice.
Odd, coming from a Viking, and more than a little aggravating.
Then Lyle lowered the knapsack and struck a dramatic pose. “‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’”
The similarity of the names Juliet and Julia gave Will a start, but she giggled and sidled nearer the flamboyant stranger.
Lyle plucked a white blossom from the clematis climbing the wall and held it out to her. “For your lovely tresses.”
She took the flower and laughingly tucked it in her gleaming hair.
Will narrowed his eyes at her. Didn’t Julia know better than to encourage Lyle like that?
No. He realized her experience with men was probably extremely limited in her formerly cloistered world. Good heavens. She was likely still a virgin. He didn’t even ask himself if she were his business anymore and felt more like a bristling dog than a congenial host as he introduced the two.
“Lyle McChesney, this is Julia Morrow, newly arrived from Great Britain to be our assistant tour guide.”
“Then the British Isles are the poorer and America the richer for it,” Lyle schmoozed.
Julia pinkened and dropped her gaze. “How sweet.”
Doubtless, she had no idea how provocative that gesture was. Lyle’s grin reminded Will of a wolf closing in on a dove, and he intuitively felt Julia was his dove.
“My great-grandfather came from Scotland. That practically makes us neighbors, doesn’t it?” Lyle gave a laugh.” Except for that trouble between the Brits and the Scots. Over now, though. Care for a cycle ride, fair Julia?”
Will had had enough. He might as well send her to a bar with a ‘take me, I’m stupid,’ sign taped to her back. He fixed Lyle with a strong gaze. “We don’t condone fraternizing among the staff at Foxleigh, Mr. McChesney.”
For a moment, Lyle’s eyes were blue ice, the thin sort that shatters, and then they thawed in a lazy smile. “No worries, mate. Shall I call round in the morning?”
A nagging dislike pricked at Will like a splinter left too long under his skin. But he’d already agreed and they badly needed the extra help. He’d just have to keep Lyle away from Julia. “I’ll give Wilkins a call. If you check out you can work on the brick wall we’re laying in the garden. It’s slow going. We must follow the original foundation.”
Lyle nodded. “Reckon everything has to be in keeping with the past here. I’ll do my part to keep it that way.”
His assurance sent an odd twinge through Will, like a finger on an old wound. “See that you do.”
****
The high spirits so evident earlier had fled with Lyle McChesney’s arrival and were no better after his departure on the big black Hog. William had reverted to the dark mood Julia witnessed earlier and it seemed pointless to attempt a cozy picnic. Fearing she’d offended him somehow, she sank onto the couch and reached for a sandwich.
He sat beside her and did the same, though his smoldering expression belied any interest in the food.
Julia bit into thin layers of turkey and ham sandwiched between crusty bread with crunchy lettuce and freshly sliced tomatoes; it could’ve been cardboard for all she cared. Charlotte’s efforts were wasted on the two of them as they chewed, swallowed, and bit again, with a distinct absence of the lightheartedness that had exhilarated Julia before. William could be so wonderfully charming she floated on a cloud of happiness, or so deeply unsettling she sank.
As if trying to gain liquid courage, Julia guzzled her soft drink. She hid unladylike belches and set it aside. “William,” she said at last.
He stiffened. “Don’t call me that when we’re in public.”
Blinking at his retort, she demanded, “Why are you speaking to me this way?”
His fathomless eyes held a mulish glint. “What way?”
“You know very well. Why are you so put out? Has this something to do with Lyle McChesney?”
William turned the full focus of his attention on her. She squirmed, finding herself in the spotlight.
“Mr. McChesney. You honestly don’t have a clue, do you?”
“No.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, he got to his feet. “Oh, it’s not your fault. You’re just so damn innocent. You might as well have been brought up in the nineteenth century with a governess, old aunt chaperones, and a patria
rchal father with a gray beard down to his chest.”
Julia jumped. “I sort of was.”
“Good Lord.” Will sat back down beside her. “I can’t believe your parents let you come to Virginia.”
“I was determined. I persuaded them I’d be living on the premises out of harm’s way. Besides, I’m of age now.”
“A fat lot of difference that makes. Well, then. Lesson number one, don’t talk to strange men.”
“Ever? How will I work as a guide?”
His lips twitched slightly. “Except for that.”
“How am I to meet new people if I don’t talk to them?”
“Lesson number two, men are not people.”
“Of course they are. If I’m forever cut off from them how shall I get married?”
“Likely your parents will choose someone suitable when you’re forty.”
Julia opened her mouth in protest, but he held his fingers to her lips. “Dusk is falling. I should go now.”
Closing her hand around his warm grasp, she pleaded, “Don’t. It’s early yet.”
He groaned under his breath. “Not for someone who gets up at five o’clock to run. Let me guess, I’ll bet you think it’s perfectly harmless for me to spend the night here?”
“You could sleep on my couch.”
“That would look great when I leave in the morning.”
She dropped her hand from his, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world to curl beside his solid frame. “Would you like to stay, if no one knew?”
He gritted his teeth. “Julia, you’re killing me. We’re a little old for sleepovers. Go have a nice hot bath and sink into bed. You’ll soon be sound asleep.”
“What if Mr. McChesney returns after you’ve gone?”
William lifted his arm and circled it lightly around her. “Lesson number three, lock the door.”
She reveled in his guarded embrace. “Don’t go just yet.”
“Shhhh...close your eyes and be quiet. I’ll stay awhile.”
Between jet lag, all the overexcitement, and deep contentedness, Julia felt her eyes growing heavy. Closing them as he’d insisted wasn’t difficult. Drowsiness washed over her and she yawned against him. “Do you do this for all the new girls?”
“Only tenacious, irritating Brits.”
She drifted to sleep in his soothing hold, too groggy to be certain, but thought she heard him whisper.
“Who will protect you from me, sweet Julia, if not I?”
More deeply content than she’d been in years, she loosed a soft sigh.
Chapter 5
“Jules.”
Julia knew that dusky voice shadowed with secrets and heart-felt desire...the voice of love. A pulsing tide washed through her in a delirious surge of hope. Could it possibly be? “Cole?”
“Yes, my darling. Open your eyes.”
She found herself gently rocking in the bow of a slender schooner. Its white sails shone in the twilight. Of course, The May Queen, Cole’s ship. She wanted to laugh and cry, to shout out loud. This was how it had all begun. He’d sent The May Queen to fetch her from Portsmouth after her long voyage from England. After two years of impassioned letters and untold miles, she had finally arrived at Foxleigh.
The graceful ship was moored in front of the majestic house, the James River lapping at its sides. And waiting on the dock, his hand outstretched, was Cole...tall, striking, magnificent, just as she remembered him. He’d been hunting, as usual, and wore the scarlet coat, white breeches, and black hunting boots that fitted him with such elegance. His head was bare and glorious chestnut hair wreathed his noble face. Was there ever such a man?
Her happiness knew no bounds as she reached out lacy gloved fingers and looked up into Cole’s smiling brown eyes. All was as it had been on her first arrival...only that had been during the day. Midnight blue spread about them now.
Cole’s grasp engulfed her hand and he drew her up out of the boat and into his arms. Her blue-sprigged chemise swirled as he laughingly swung her around and around.
“Jules! Have you any notion how long I’ve been waiting?”
She sensed the smothering weight of the years, but they were flown. She was back where she belonged in Cole’s strong embrace. “I’m here now. It wasn’t easy to find my way, but I’ve returned, my love.”
“Don’t ever leave me again, my dearest darling.”
“No.” She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the spice of his cologne and inviting musk that was Cole.
“Everything’s ready,” he said.
She gazed at the lawn and gardens stretching way up to the house. Lanterns glowed in the avenue of trees lining the pebbled walk and fireflies flickered among the leaves like tiny candles. Overhead, a great moon spilled a silvery sheen over the magical scene. It was Christmas, New Year’s, and her birthday all rolled into one.
“Oh, Cole. A fairyland.”
“As I said it would be for Midsummer’s Eve. Remember? All is in readiness. This year’s ball shall be the most splendid ever because you are here.”
He stood her on the manicured lawn. Hand in hand, they strolled between the myriad of dancing lights. Her blue slippers hardly seemed to touch the ground. The world was airy and glowing, within and without. She and Cole were together as they’d been before. No one could take that away...and yet, it seemed to her that someone had, with unspeakable cruelty. But there was no room in this heavenly balm for pain, only joy.
“Mama and Aunt Penelope are waiting for us at the house,” he said. “They can wait awhile longer.”
“Yes.” Time enough for those fine ladies later. This was their time, her and Cole’s.
Snow white lilies shone from a circular flowerbed set among the clipped boxwood. Honeyed perfume flowed over Julia. She breathed it all in.
Cole paused to pluck a lily and slipped it into her hair. “A pure blossom for a faultless lady.”
She smiled. “No woman is perfect, Cole. If you knew me better, you’d see my flaws.”
“I know you, Jules. You’re an angel.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips, his mouth warm through the lace. A thousand shivers ran up her arm.
A tiny pearl button fell from her glove to the shadowed ground. Cole picked it up and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. “A keepsake,” he said, and retook her hand.
They walked on and he drew her down to sit on the low brick wall that wound through the garden. “Stay here awhile.”
“Anywhere, with you,” she murmured, and tucked her head against his chest. His coat was satin next to her skin, his chest pulsing with life. “We’ve been here before.”
“Yes.” He slipped his fingers through her hair.
How long they remained lost in moonlit oneness, Julia couldn’t have said. She savored every velvet moment.
Then Cole laid his cheek against hers, and she felt moist warmth, like tears. His voice was solemn in her ear.
“Dearest Jules, there are things you must know.”
Like darkness covering the moon, a foreboding shadowed her joy. “What things?”
“All that has been will be.”
“I don’t understand.”
“All,” he repeated.
A bloodstained blade slashed through Julia’s mind and she saw Cole lying on the floor of his chamber as she’d seen him not long ago. Was it only today, or a two centuries’ old memory?
Wrapping her arms around his dear warmth, she clung to him fiercely. Sobs tore at her throat so she could barely speak. “No. Not that. Forbid it Almighty God.”
He cradled her tightly, rocking her against him. “Shhhh...” he crooned. “The past cannot be undone.”
“It must. Just this once, Cole. Just this once.”
“No.” His voice was unbending.
“Then why am I here in your precious arms? Why did you say everything is ready?” she choked out.
He tenderly pressed his lips over her tearstained face. “We’ve been given a second chance
, but it lies in the future.”
“What do you mean? How will I know?”
He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Watch and listen well. We haven’t much time to get it right.”
Terrible thought. “And if we don’t? If we get it wrong?”
“I have faith in you, Jules, and in us.”
She sensed him fading into the shadows like mist, going where she couldn’t follow. “Wait. How will I find you?”
“I’m very near, if you need me.”
“If? Always and forever. Cole!”
“Seek and you shall find, my love.” And then more faintly, “Watch for me by moonlight.”
Julia woke with a start, her face wet from crying. She lay on the couch covered with the quilted throw. A small lamp shone on the end table beside her, bathing her in soft white light. She wiped at her eyes and sat up, too shaken for words. On the low table beside the plate of brownies was a spray of pearl-white lilies. Their perfume, like rich nectar, scented the room.
“Cole?” she whispered, then, “Will?”
****
Will thrashed back and forth in his bed. “Julia, Julia, Julia,” he muttered, thumping his pillow with his fist.
How could a girl he’d only just met, sear him body and soul? The memory of her soft femininity enveloped him like an intoxicating scent. How he wished he could drink deeply from that sweet well. He was parched. Not only because it had been far too long since he’d had a woman, he’d never truly had the one he yearned for. Though, he couldn’t have said who that ephemeral lady was. He’d buried her too deeply in his subconscious...until now...nor could he say just how far that subconscious went. Only that desire for Julia welled up in him like an overflowing spring.
He couldn’t take this innocent girl, and then pack her off to England. Her patriarch father would maim, sue, and otherwise annihilate him, and rightly so. And if he wed her—
Good heavens. What was he thinking?
His grandmother would leave Foxleigh and her fortune to the Historical Society as she’d threatened on more than one occasion. Rather like a high-handed duchess wanting everyone at her beck and call and pitching a fit if they balked, especially him. He seemed particularly burdened with her strong bias, maybe because he was all the family she had left. And vice versa, which partly accounted for him tolerating her.
9 Ways to Fall in Love Page 188